She invited me in.Sybil’s house was alive with the smell of roast chicken, which she had cooked by courtesy of the timer of her electric oven.“Are...you doing anything for lunch?” she asked.“Cheese sandwich,” I replied.“Plenty of food here,” she said, “and some wine if you like.”He looked at me hesitantly, as if half expecting me to admonish her for her sinful lifestyle.“Great,” I said. “Shall I open it?”Over the next hour, we finished the bottle - a cheap Chilean Merlot which I also bought,. I hated shopping in the same stores where Mr. Oldham bought his clothes, the clerks fawning over me like I held a key to their future. But I would still need to shop for clothes to wear on weekends.Betsy and Molly left the house about six p.m., but not before making sure that I knew where everything was for our evening meal. Molly had the box of my outgrown clothes under her arm, thanking me for the sixth time. "Charity begins at home," she reminded me.Mr. Oldham arrived home early that day,. More

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